Before It's Too Late
by Art-Over-Matter
Summary: Ian and Anthony are at a hotel together, each loving the other but thinking the feelings won't be returned. When their hotel catches on fire, Ian decides to finally tell Anthony his feelings before it's too late. Ianthony. Rated T for language and violence.


_Anthony, will you ever know how I feel about you?_ Ian wondered as he looked at his best friend from across the room. Anthony was sitting on a large, stiff-looking armchair next to the window, reading a book about scientific theories on the universe or something equally nerdy.

The two of them were at a hotel in San Diego because of a collaboration video they were doing in a two-day shoot. They would only have to stay in the hotel for one night, but they couldn't avoid staying at all. Because it was only going to be one night, they'd decided to pay for only one room with two beds instead of two rooms with one bed. They'd shared a room before, so it was hardly an ordeal to them.

"Ian? Did you need something, dude?" Anthony asked with a quirked eyebrow, catching Ian staring at him.

"Nah, I'm just tired," he covered for himself calmly. "I zoned out for a minute."

"Okay," Anthony said with a little smile.

A small part of Ian sighed with unhappiness. He had fallen in love with Anthony several years ago. He hadn't really realized or accepted that he loved him at the time; he'd had Melanie, and he loved her more—or at least in a more romantic way, as friendship-love was incomparable. But now he didn't have Melanie, and it was killing him to keep these emotions inside.

Yet Anthony was straight, and there was nothing Ian could do about that.

"Okay. Dude?" Anthony said.

Ian looked up from his phone, which he had been staring at so it looked like he was doing something.

"This is fucking amazing. There's a computer-simulated version of the universe online."

"What?"

"There's a surprisingly accurate computer simulation of the entire universe out there, it's called Illustris, and it's actually accessible on the web. That's fucking awesome, isn't it?"

"Woah, wouldn't that crash the shit out of your computer?"

"I don't know," Anthony said, delighted nonetheless, "I'm not sure how detailed it is, but I was just reading about it and it blew my mind. I never stop finding it fascinating that we know so much and also so little about the universe. We can create a virtual universe—our entire universe—with a computer, but we don't even know whether or not everything actually started with the big bang." He looked sheepishly at Ian. "I should probably shut up, shouldn't I?"

Ian smiled. "No, it's okay. That is pretty cool."

"It's just—yeah. This is an awesome book."

●Sometimes Ian was too nice. Anthony couldn't help but find himself thinking about how nice it was for Ian to put up with all the things that Anthony would get overly excited about that Ian only semi-cared to hear.

He glanced over at Ian, who was laying on his back on the hotel bed, looking at his phone.

_Ian Hecox, I have no idea how to feel about you, but sometimes I swear I lo—_

_Jesus, Anthony, you must be in some hell of a mood tonight, _he thought to himself, pushing his previous thought away. He checked his watch. 12:47 am. It wasn't even that late, but he must have been distracted and tired due to the traveling they'd done that morning.

"You planning to turn in any time soon?" he asked Ian.

Ian shrugged. "I'm good with whatever. I'm not really that tired yet."

"That's fine. I was just wondering. I might give it another half hour."

"Are you gonna be reading that book all night?" Ian asked, nodding to the book with a cute raised eyebrow.

_Cute? What the fuck, Anthony? Ian's not cute. At least, you shouldn't think he's cute._

"Dude?"

"Oh, yeah. Uh, no. I don't know. I might fuck around on Twitter or whatever. Why?"

Ian shrugged again. "I'm bored as hell."

"Oh," Anthony said, laughing slightly. "I have—well…."

"What?"

"Well, I have my 3DS, but I'm not sure I'm willing to give it to you…."

"Aw, come on, man!"

"Fine," Anthony said, smiling. He grabbed his gaming device and stood up, tossing it gently onto the bed in front of Ian as he walked to the bathroom.

"Thanks, dude," Ian called before Anthony shut the door.

It was that same man in the mirror. The same guy Anthony had been seeing in his reflection for the past twenty-seven years. Anthony Padilla.

But something was different now. Now that he was starting think he might have a crush on—hell, he might be in love with—his best friend…everything was different.

He rubbed a hand over his face and through his hair. _Ian's straight, Anthony. Don't be stupid._

●Ian had to tell him. It was a good time, too. They were alone, they weren't in the middle of dealing with Smosh videos, and he was actually starting to feel willing to do it.

He needed to tell Anthony how he felt about him.

After dying a few times in the game Anthony'd had on his 3DS, Ian turned it off and sat up. He could do this. It didn't have to be awkward; he'd just say he was thinking of Anthony differently now.

But what would Anthony's response be? He didn't return the feelings—he was just Ian's friend, never his boyfriend—but could he understand Ian's predicament?

No. No, he couldn't tell him.

Anthony came out of the bathroom and sat on the other bed, looking a little too casual, as if he were trying to hide something.

"Did you clog the toilet in there?" Ian asked suspiciously.

"Wha—?" Anthony couldn't even finish without bursting into laughter. It was the kind of throw-your-head-back-and-cackle sort of laugh that Ian loved him for.

He had to laugh himself, if nothing else because Anthony made it somewhat contagious. "I guess that wasn't it."

Anthony shook his head, still unable to speak for a few seconds. "That was—fucking—hilarious though."

Ian shrugged, grinning.

"I couldn't have taken a shit in that time anyway," Anthony said, still chuckling.

Whatever was actually the reason he had been acting that way, it must have been a lot more serious than clogging the toilet, because it had caught him completely off-guard.

Ian couldn't help but wonder what was on his mind.

●It was around 1:30 when they decided to turn in. Anthony was lying in bed, feeling like he could fall asleep but not quite doing so. That was pretty odd for him, given that he could usually fall asleep in less than two minutes.

He could hear Ian's steady breathing from a few feet away, but his friend must not have been asleep because Anthony was fairly certain he snored.

"Yo, Ian?" he asked quietly. It was ten or so minutes after they'd turned the lights out.

"Hmm?" Ian grunted.

"Just wondering if you were still asleep. I can't fucking seem to fall asleep."

"Too bad."

Anthony sighed. If he really did love Ian, it was going to make his life hard as hell. Ian acted so much like his friend and not anything else—it would be torture live with him acting like this.

_But I think I do love him, _he thought, simultaneously appalled and reluctantly accepting. _He's the coolest guy I've ever met, and I don't just feel like he's my friend. I love so much about him…_

He stopped himself before he got too far on that thought train. He was straight. Ian was straight.

Right?

"Anthony?"

He snapped out of his thoughts. "Yeah?"

Ian sighed. "I have something…to talk to you about."

"You do?"

"Um…yes."

There was a silence as Anthony waited for Ian to say more.

"I think I…" he paused, then said quickly. "I don't feel like doing the video shoot tomorrow."

Anthony frowned. "Why?"

"I don't know. I've just lost motivation, I guess."

That seemed odd. Sure, they couldn't be motivated all the time, but they didn't have much to do for the video that day. "Well, you know, we really—"

That was when something exploded.

Anthony heard someone shout a swearword, but he really didn't know if it was Ian or himself.

They couldn't see any difference in the room now, but there had been a flash of light and a loud _boom. _Next, they heard some yelling and screaming.

"What the fuck is that?" Anthony said, terrified.

"I don't—" Ian was cut off by some incredibly loud fire alarms screaming through the building.

"Shit!" Anthony said, shooting out of bed and going to the door to switch on the light.

The lights came on, then flickered and went out. At the same time, the sprinkler system overhead kicked in and sprayed them with water.

"Goddamn," Ian yelled over the alarms. "Just get out the door, Anthony! We've gotta get out of here."

Anthony was probably the most scared he'd ever been in his life when he opened the door and saw the entire doorframe engulfed in flames. He shut the door fast and started coughing. The smoke invaded his nose, mouth, and lungs and it burned….

"Anthony? Are you okay?" Ian asked, sounding panicked.

"Yeah," he said through coughs. "I'm fine." He was breathing heavily now. "Fucking smoke."

"Okay. Step away from the door. If the power still works, we've gotta get towels or something and stuff it under the thing. The door."

Anthony nodded. Ian went in the bathroom and snatched a towel from the towel rack. He ran it under the water from the bathtub and brought it back out, dripping. He shoved it under the door, blocking the small amount of smoke that had been seeping through.

Anthony yanked the comforter off his bed and opened the window to outside. They were on one of the highest floors in the hotel, so there was almost no chance of surviving if they jumped, but he could at least show that someone was in this room. After he'd punched through the screen and jammed the blanket in the sliding part of the window, he turned back.

Ian had his back against the wall and was coughing uncontrollably.

"Ian—oh Jesus." Anthony went over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. It was no surprise the smoke would be bothering Ian's asthmatic lungs. "Come on. Just try to breathe normally."

Ian nodded, but he couldn't seem to stop coughing.

The alarms were still going off, and they were mixed with two sounds: the faint wailing fire truck sirens and the roaring crackles of the flames just outside their door.

"Oh God," Ian said, finally recovering his coughing attack. "Anthony—" He was looking at something in particular….

Anthony followed his gaze to the ceiling, where the plaster was turning black and dripping to the carpet, leaving black or orange-glowing patches that looked like they could catch on fire at any minute, despite the drenching water from above.

"Anthony," Ian said, with a small cough. "Go get another wet towel from the bathroom."

Anthony did so, setting it below the dripping plaster so the substance sizzled as it hit, but didn't glow.

The sirens continued below them, barely audible above the noise already in the room. "How long is it," Anthony said above the screeching alarms, "before they'll get to us?"

"No idea. It can't be too long, though."

The ceiling above the door collapsed suddenly, melting lumps of God-knows-what material hitting the carpet and bursting into flickering, sizzling flame. Some beams of thick wood, not yet burning, fell through right toward Ian's head.

●"Oh, shit. Shit!" Ian said, scrambling backward. He felt his left shoulder hit Anthony's arm and Anthony put his arm around him to help him steady himself. "Fuck, I was sure that was gonna hit me."

"Me too," Anthony said, pulling Ian back toward the window.

They stood against each other for several more seconds before Anthony said, "Ian?"

"Yeah?" Ian coughed.

"I'm s—so fucking scared right now," he said, his voice wavering.

Ian didn't say anything, he just turned around and wrapped his arms around Anthony, burying his face in Anthony's shoulder and neck. Anthony seemed surprised at first, but then he hugged Ian back and rested his head on Ian's hair.

The flames were spreading toward them, blocking their path to the bathroom, which was their only source of water other than the sprinkler system, which was starting to falter and die.

_We're going to die here, _Ian thought. _We're going to die right now._

He held Anthony tighter, but then more smoke wafted into his lungs and he began to cough. He stepped away from Anthony so he could double over and cough harder.

He heard Anthony cough a few times, but he wasn't nearly dying from lack of air like Ian.

"Anthony—" he said through coughs, "I can't—can't…breathe."

"It's okay," Anthony said, his voice high-pitched with fear. "Get over here to the—window, there's some fresh air."

Ian heard him pull the window open, making the sirens outside intensify. Ian's ears were starting to ring from all the sounds.

Other than city lights, it was dark outside when Ian stuck his head out the window. His eyes had adjusted to the brightness of the fire and he could barely see anything in the dark. Just a lot of flashing lights….

He sat down hard, suddenly dizzy. He was gasping for air now, every breath like fire and ice in his chest.

Anthony was beside him. Ian reached out to him, catching hold of his hand and holding it to his chest right below his throat.

"Anthony," he said, still gasping and choking. "I l—love you." He felt like he was saying his last words.

"Oh God, Ian…It's okay. It's okay. I love you too. I love you so much…." Anthony might have kept talking, but Ian couldn't hear him. He could still vaguely hear the flames, and he could see the violently flickering light, but his senses were starting to blur together….

And then he passed out.

●"Ian, no. God, don't leave me," Anthony pleaded. His eyes were watering like crazy, but he was fairly certain it was from the smoke. Not that he cared, at this point.

Ian collapsed away from Anthony and Anthony reached out to catch him. He was on his knees and was almost behind Ian, so he wrapped his arms around Ian's shoulders and hugged his friend to his chest. He rocked back and forth slightly with his eyes closed, holding Ian to himself and trying hard to ignore the flames that were trapping him in the very corner of the hotel room.

_Don't leave me, please…_

He was coughing now—coughing pretty hard—and was trying desperately to tell himself that they were going to be okay.

But he knew they weren't.

He really started to feel the heat of the flames before he lost consciousness. It was searing, but at the same he heard a person's voice, yelling….

The last thing he remembered was the feeling of Ian against his chest.

When Anthony opened his eyes, the world was white. It wasn't a bright white, but he couldn't make out any sort of shape in the colorlessness. As he lay there—he assumed he was lying down, though he really couldn't feel the position of his own body—things started to come into focus. He was in a room, he was pretty sure, and maybe there were blankets or something on top of him. He could hear a quiet beeping noise near his right ear.

He turned his head to the left, sensing that something—someone—was over there.

"Ia—Ian," he stated, his eyes focusing on the only face that could make him feel whole again.

"Anthony," Ian said, smiling. He looked completely normal, though Anthony had been expecting some sort of sign of what they'd been through.

What had they been through? He remembered light. Flickering orange light, and fire in his chest. Pain? Did he remember pain?

He sat up. "How are—how are you?" he asked Ian, feeling disoriented.

"Happy as hell that you're awake." Ian leaned forward and kissed him.

Anthony smiled and tried to pull his hand forward to put on Ian's neck, but he felt something pulling on his wrist. He frowned briefly but instead put his other hand on the back of Ian's head, brushing his hand through Ian's hair.

When they parted, Anthony focused on Ian's light blue eyes, glancing back and forth between them. "Ian?"

"Hm?"

"I don't think you got to hear my say this, but I love you."

"I love you too," Ian said, glancing away shyly but then meeting Anthony's eyes.

In that moment, everything was perfect.

Too perfect. ●


End file.
